


The Secrets to a Good Life

by deardracula



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deardracula/pseuds/deardracula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had gotten into this whole thing with the knowledge that Remus' heart would give out first. That's how it should be. He couldn't live without Sirius, but Sirius could live without him. He was strong enough for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. death is such an easy thing

They had gotten into this whole thing with the knowledge that Remus' heart would give out first. That's how it should be. He couldn't live without Sirius, but Sirius could live without him. He was strong enough for that. He had so much more to live up to. So much he was suppose to accomplish. He was suppose to teach James' son how to ride a bike and he was suppose to watch so many more sun sets dip past the horizon outside their kitchen window. He was suppose to be the last thing Remus saw before he slipped away into that never ending darkness. But there he was, standing helplessly as Sirius held the receiver to his ear, his shoulders slumped against the doorjamb as Remus watched him age twenty years right in front of his eyes.

  
He hung up slowly, his hands shaking, the delicate skin under his eyes smeared with charcoal. He shot Remus a watery smile, his dimples cutting into the side of his face as he fumbled around in his pocket for a box of smokes. Remus adjusted Harry on his hip, plating a nervous kiss to his fat cheeks. "Mummy!" He grabbed at the air, his chubby fingers splayed and curled into his little palms as he reached for Sirius with his whole body. Sirius stuck the unlit cigarette behind his ear, taking the baby from Remus' tense grip. "We should really correct him on that." Remus scrubbed a hand at the base of his skull, a siren wailing outside.

"I don't mind." He held Harry up to his face, his chubby little appendages flopping around his round body lazily. Remus sighed, taking a step in their direction as Sirius slung Harry over his shoulder, high pitched cries of delight tearing through the tense air around them. The street outside was teaming with happy people spending time with their happy friends in happy little bars, talking about their happy lives. The alleys between buildings were crawling with rebellious youth, their summer holiday still only a few days old as they celebrated with the their mother's watered down cooking sherry and their father's cigarettes. The headlights outside flashed across their walls in hot, panicked bursts as cars sped down the road, whitewashing the yellow tint to Sirius' skin. Harry buried his hands in Sirius' hair, tugging on it mercilessly as Sirius bounced on the balls of his feet. Harry babbled away happily as Remus searched Sirius' unreadable face. He wanted to ask about the phone call, but he knew what the answer would be."Come on love, time for bed." Harry's bottom lip jutted out as Remus pulled him from his perch.

"Do you want some coffee?" Sirius called down the hall as Remus padded into Harry's bedroom, straightening his ruffled hair absentmindedly.

"Yeah." He called back, kicking the door open with his foot as he struggled to hold onto the squirming boy in his arms. He flipped on the light switch with his elbow as the upstairs occupants had noisy sex above their heads. Remus moved Harry to the changing table, the mobile above his crib swaying in the cross breeze that blew in from the hallway. He fought him into the pair of red and gold pajamas James had bought him for their last Christmas together. Alright Harry darling, don't be fussy." He hoisted him into the crib, the paint chipping along the edges where Harry had thought to teethe. He patted the baby's backside to make sure he was still dry before tucking a blanket around him, kissing his head, his soft, wispy hair tickling his nose. He turned off the overhead light, a nightlight humming near the closet, the glow in the dark stars Sirius had stuck to the ceiling burned genitally over head.

  
Remus soldiered back into the kitchen where Sirius was waiting by the coffeemaker, a thick blue cloud of smoke curling around his face. His bare feet slapped against the cold tiles loudly as he moved to stand behind him, his chin resting on his shoulder. Sirius let his head fall against Remus' as they waited for the coffee. The metal pot clanged loudly in the silence as the slow dribble of liquid fill it enough for two cups. “”You shouldn't smoke, love.”

Remus worried his bottom lip as Sirius hummed. "It doesn't matter." The cigarette hung limply from his fingers. Remus moved his head away so it rested between the folds of Sirius' shoulder blades. “I start chemo tomorrow.” He scrubbed a hand over his face while the coffeemaker beeped, announcing the completion of it's mundane job. Remus found his arms working their way around Sirius' waist, the coffee pot sitting on the burner, untouched as Sirius pulled away, walking into the living room. "There's a Happy Days marathon on tonight." He picked up the remote with shaking fingers, stubbing his cigarette out in a crystal ash tray as he flipped trough the channels on their statically impaired television set too fast to see what was on.

"Come on, I'm tried." Remus shrugged to Sirius' tense back as he stood in the doorway, his feet planted on the little piece of metal that separated the kitchen' tile from the living room's hard wood floor.

"I can sleep when I'm dead." Remus rolled his head, his shoulders collapsing in on themselves. Sirius' fingers continued to slam against the rubber buttons as he trailed up into channels they hadn't paid for, receiving a static hiss in return for his efforts. Remus watched him for a minute, the hair at the crown of his head knotted from Harry's little fists, before he slid down the wall, his feet flat against the other side of the doorjamb, his knees close to his chest. The cars outside hummed and somewhere in the building a dog barked. Everything seemed so loud in their quite flat, the outside world so busy with it's own problems, no body thinking about the terribly wonderful man sitting on his battered couch right now, staring death straight in the face because the woman walking by their building seven stories below just had to put her cat to sleep and the teenager sitting in a coffee shop somewhere was worried about the color of their hair.

  
Remus waited for him to say something, anything because the silence was killing them. Their seconds together were ticking by impossibly fast and they did have a moment to spare to silence. “Sirius-”

“Lets go somewhere tomorrow.” He turned off the tv, the screen bursting white before melting away to black. Remus' brow knit as he twisted his shoulders around, half facing him like he didn't want to commit to what he was about to say. “Before my fucking doctor's appointment, lets just run away. When was the last time we did something spontaneous? I mean come on Remus, baby, we've become so boring. We have a kid. We have sex on the weekends and we drive a fucking station wagon. Jesus Christ Remus when did we acquire a station wagon? I never wanted to have throw pillows. Fuck, I never wanted to know what a throw pillow was.” He picked up the sky blue pillow that was pressed between his thigh and the back of the couch, throwing it across the room, the lamp it hit wobbling threateningly. “I wanted to see the world with you, but look where we are now? We are tied down. We've got finances, whatever the fuck that means. We have a baby proofed flat and there's a fern sitting on that table. A fucking fern Remus. What is a fern anyway? I wore a button up shirt to the grocery store today and I bought milk. I drove a fucking station wagon to go by milk for my child. God fucking dammit. Somewhere James is laughing his arse off.” He stood up, his arms buckled down over his chest. “The only liberty I have left is my hair, and I'm about to loose that, so where does that leave me? I remember when we had fun-”

“We still have fun.”

“Cuddling does not count as fun.” He shot Remus a pointed look, the bags under his eyes thick and daunting.  
Remus straighten up slowly, his bad knee popping. He stood in the doorway looking small and hunched over and tired, his hair prematurely grey, his eyes lacking that youthful glimmer they use to hold before the weight of the world bore down on his unsuspecting shoulders. “Alright.” He took a step in Sirius' direction, trailing his hands over Sirius' chest. “Let's go somewhere tomorrow, just you and me. I can drop Harry off with Frank and Alice. That will be nice wont it? He likes Neville. And we can run away for the afternoon.” He smiled up at him, his thumb smoothing out the worry that folded itself into Sirius' forehead.

~~

Sirius slept with his back to him that night, the thin red sheet tucked under his chin, his knees drawn to his chest. Remus listened to his heavy breathing as he laid on his back, his eyes transfixed on the ceiling fan that rotated in irregular beats as the wind howled outside their window. His mind raced, the tension thick and pounding behind his eyes as his fists clenched at his sides, his blunt nails leaving half moon slices in his palms. It was hard not to worry when life gave you so many opportunities to feel sorry for yourself. There was a timelessly cliché question gnawing at the back of his skull. He'd never dare utter the words, but there was still that voice, the one you read so much about in books, in the far corner of his mind. It was small and weak and malnourished, but it was there, fighting strong. Why did it have to be them? What had they done so wrong? His teeth sunk into the soft inner flesh of his cheeks until his mouth flooded with the copper tang of blood. He fought to think of something else. He fought to keep the images of Sirius' grey body tucked away into a casket, out of his godforsaken head. But it's hard not to think about something when you are trying so hard not to think of it. The images presented themselves to him like a serpent in the garden of Eden. The fruit was sweet and there was an entire tree hanging over his head. There was a world of possibilities swimming around between his ears and all he had to do was sink his teeth into it. He let the thought of Sirius' survival seduce him. An imaginary Sirius, ripe and weathered and jubilantly grey, sitting in a rocking chair next to him on the porch of some old farm house in the country. Maybe they would have a dog and maybe Harry would visit them on Christmas and the house would smell like ham and oranges and hoards of grandchildren would flood down the stairs on Christmas morning because Sirius always got them the best presents. The kind of presents that Remus would shake his head at and Harry would disapprove of and the children would love. And maybe they would grow old together, old enough to have to carry a cane and old enough to be legally married because some beautiful law would pass and he could hold his hand in the street and it would be okay. It would be beautiful. It wouldn't be reality.

  
His arse was numb and the undersides of his shoulder blades was littered in knots. “Are you awake?” He whispered into the darkness, his fingers trailing along the sharp angle of Sirius' bare hips. Sirius hummed, his throat cracking under the strain. He turned onto his side, curling around the shape of Sirius' spine as the fan creaked and the wind whistled and the couple upstairs fought about something Remus couldn't make out. Sirius kept quite, his hair falling in thick waves over his shoulders, spilling into the white pillow case, a halo of black silk around his head. “Say something darling.” Remus' lips brushed against Sirius' shoulder, his fingers between the grooves of Sirius' exposed ribs. “What are you thinking about?”

“I wonder how many times we'll have sex before I die.” He answered too quickly, the words spilling past his lips like a secret. Remus' breath caught in his throat as Sirius leaned back against his chest. His hair smelled like peppermint shampoo and his skin felt paper thin under the pads of Remus' fingers.

  
They made love slowly that night, Remus' legs around Sirius' waist, their bodies twisting together with familiar ease as Remus chanted sweet nothings in his ear. Sirius let himself curl up against Remus' side as they fell asleep, their legs tangled as their hearts raced and time stopped for just a moment. The couple upstairs were finally quite and the cars had stopped rushing by and the only sound was their breathing mixed with the quite ticking of the clock hanging on the wall. It was three in the morning and they were awake and that in itself was liberating because they felt alone in the world. They felt serenely at peace with themselves at that second and neither of them wanted to close their eyes because that would mean the fingers running through Sirius' hair would stop and his appointment would rear its ugly head when he opened his eyes again in the morning. “I don't even use my fucking pancreas.” He mumbled into Remus' chest, his finger's curling into the other boy's waist. “This isn't fair.” He sounded desperate and panicked and alone like a seven year old child that had lost his parents in a grocery store. Remus sighed softly, his fingers moving from Sirius' hair to the ridges of his spine, learning every rise and fall of the skeletal foundation that lied beneath his tired skin. “There has to be a cure. This is the goddamn twenty first century, how could they let something like this continue to kill people?” He rolled over onto his back, Remus' hand getting caught between his sharp shoulder blades and the lumpy mattress.


	2. just falling into darkness

Remus woke up early the next morning, the sun outside just a whisper against the pale grey of their bedroom walls. It had become impossible for Remus to sleep through the night. With each passing visit to the hospital, he could fell his body decaying from the inside out in time with Sirius'. He sighed, his tongue dry, his hair crunching against the cotton pillowcase under his head softly as he turned. Sirius laid face down against the mattress beside him, his belly flat against the uneven springs, his chest rising and falling heavily as faint snores erupted from his parted lips. Remus' mouth twitched upwards as he brushed the soft, black, unkempt hair off of Sirius' forehead. The clock on the wall read some ungodly hour as Remus' heart beat fell in time with the mechanical ticking of the second hand.

  
His eyes itched from sleep as he blinked slowly, expecting Sirius to materialized beside him while he watched. Sirius had become all skin and bone. He couldn't even remember it happening, it had progressed so slowly. He hadn't even been aware that the muscles he had been holding onto so dearly under Sirius' skin had been deteriorating right under the pads of his fingers. He felt responsible. If he had known. If he could have just opened his eyes and seen Sirius pushing the food around on his plate instead of eating it, he might have been able to do something. As he looked down at him now, he was just yellow skin pulled tightly across a narrow frame, his organs failing him as Remus watched. It was hard to believe that a person had to rely so blindly on something as preposterous as a pancreas as it sat there and did nothing but collect and breed cancerous cells.

  
Remus pushed the sheets aside and stood up, the springs beneath him groaning, Sirius' snores hitching momentarily in his sleep. He padded into the bathroom with an outfit slung over his arm. He peeled off his sleep stiff t-shirt and pajama bottoms before stepping under the spray of the shower. He scrubbed a bar of soap over himself quickly, throwing a towel around his waist in three minutes flat just in case Harry started crying while he was out of ear shot. He tugged on the pair of seersucker trousers Sirius had told him made his bum look nice in seventh year, before shrugging on a cardigan, running a towel through his hair. He stepped into the kitchen and turned on the light, his feet bright red against the white lanolin tiles.

  
It was an hour or so later until Harry cried, a high pitched, shrill sound that cut through the flat and pulled Sirius from his restless slumber. Remus heard Sirius groan in the other room as he rocked Harry in his arms. He laid Harry across the changing table as Sirius walked by, dragging his feet as he stepped into the bathroom, the sheet from their bed pulled around his shoulders. Remus fitting Harry into a fresh diaper and a clean navy blue onesie as the shower in the bathroom turned on. He pulled a diaper bag out of the closet next to the changing table and packed it full to the brim of everything a baby could possibly need while they were apart from their parents for the afternoon. Remus smirked as Sirius' poor, toned deaf soul sang an AC/DC song over the rush of water, complete with mouth guitar and a poor impression of Bon Scott. Remus scooped Harry up onto his arms as he continued to cry, cooing at him impassively as his ears began to ring from the high pitched wails. The shower in the bathroom cut off as Remus set Harry on his hip, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving a stuffed dog in front of the baby's face like he had seen Sirius do so many times before. Stream spilled into the hallway as Sirius stepped out of the bathroom, his damp hair falling around his face in artful disorder. He pressed a chaste kiss to Remus' chapped lips as he stole the baby out of his tense grip. “What's got you so fussy, daddio?” Harry's blood curtailing cries subsided into a pitiful whimpers as Sirius wiggled him around in the air, whisking him off into the kitchen. When Remus emerged from the bedroom moment's later, the tears on Harry's face were drying, a toothless smile split across his face as Sirius rambled to him wordlessly, setting his padded bottom down on the linoleum counter top.

“I told Alice I'd drop Harry off at noon. What do you want for breakfast?” Remus opened the cabinets aimlessly.

“Whatever you're having, love.” Sirius ran his palm over Harry's head, trying to flatten the soft curls.

“I'm not very hungry right now.” Remus opened the refrigerator, the airtight seal pulling apart with a pop. His shoulders pinched as he bent down to see if there was anything to eat. “But I can make you some eggs or something.”

“That's fine, neither am I.” Remus' lungs deflated as he closed the heavy door.

~~

It was another three uneventful hours until they left the house. Remus fed Harry a jar of mashed fruit with a little spoon wrapped in blue plastic as Sirius smoked out on the terrace, his fist balled in his hair. The flat was deafeningly quite as Remus fidgeted with the bottom button of his cardigan, twisting it between his fingers until the threads snapped and the fabric covered plastic sat impassively in the palm of his hand. He watched Sirius pace out of the corner of his eye anxiously as Harry started to squash the purple concoction of fruit into the table of the high chair nosily.

  
They had developed this sort of unspoken agreement between themselves; they always seemed to have a habit of doing that. They talked about the weather and football until it was absolutely necessary to bring up whatever dire situation had arose because maybe, just maybe, if they ignored it, it would go away. They had gone a good year and a half without talking about Sirius' decision to run away back in their fifth year, and they never even discussed the possibility of Sirius owning a motorbike, but it had happened none the less.

  
Sirius stepped back into the kitchen, the glass door barely opening enough for him to squeeze by. The peppery tang of cigarette smoke flooded in after him as he picked up the worn leather jacket that hung over the back of the chair next to Harry, and shrugged in on over his thin cotton tank top without a word. Remus watched him with nervous glances. “Are you ready?” Sirius coughed slightly as he wiped a smug of purple paste off of Harry's face with his thumb.

  
Sirius insisted on driving to the Longbottom's, calming that it would calm his nerves as Remus tucked Harry away into his car seat in the back, setting the diaper bag on the floor below him before slipping into the passenger seat. Sirius' palm cupped the side of his face briefly as he started the car, the engine turning over with a wet flop before catching.

  
He took the long way there, weaving through back streets to avoid the traffic lights that plagued the main roads. Sirius' slender fingers drummed against the stick shift in time to the guitar riff of a Boston song spilling from the lackluster speakers as Harry began to sniffle behind them. Remus turned around in his seat, his arm slung over the top of the bench seat behind Sirius' head as he cooed, Harry's bottom lip quivering hopelessly despite the funny faces Remus was shooting his way. He craned his little mouth open and let out an ear splitting cry. Sirius jumped, swerving into the other lane before yanking the wheel straight, the car behind them honking. “Damn it Remus.” He spat through his teeth as the car that honked speed pass, giving them a lovely view of two of his fingers.

“Come on Harry love, what's wrong?” Remus shouldered himself out of his seat belt, turning and running a hand through Harry's wispy curls. The baby sniffled, fat tears dripping off his chin.

  
Remus didn't manage to get him quiet before they pulled in front of the Longbottom's single story house. Sirius threw the car into park, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he shoved the keys into Remus' hand and pulled Harry out of his car seat in the back, bouncing him on his hip while Remus collected the bag from the backseat. Harry's grimace immediately fell as he studied Sirius face while he smiled and cooed, the baby's vivid green eyes big and wondering. Remus watched them from the other side of the car, his arms hanging heavily by his sides as Harry's chubby hands reached for the thin silver hoops that hung close to Sirius' earlobes. “Are you coming?” Sirius asked before turning and striding up the short stretch of concrete that lead to the Longbottom's front door. Remus followed behind a few paces, his feet dragging behind him limply as he went to meet Sirius on the porch while he pounded the door knocker against the wood three times. There was a loud clatter from somewhere inside and the sound of Frank hollowing before Alice answered the door, her short hair in disarray on top of her head. “Sirius, Remus.” She smiled, pushing her fringe out of her eyes with the palm of her hand. “It's so lovely to see you.” She stood on her toes to kiss each of them on both cheeks before holding her arms out for Harry, who had his own arms in a death grip around Sirius' neck. Remus pried him away, mumbling apologizes that fell of deaf ears as Sirius smiled and laughed easily.

Harry wailed as soon as Remus pulled him away from Sirius. “He's been rather fussy this morning.” He gave her a watery smile, handing her the baby and the bag that was slung over his shoulder.

“That's quite alright.” She wrapped her thin arm's around Harry's middle, his tears staining her blouse as soon as they fell off his chin and onto the polyester blend. “I'm sure Frank would have wanted to say hello, but he's got his hands full with Neville right now I believe.” She leaned back to look into the other room. “Maybe he'll pop out when you come to pick Harry up.”

“We should be back in a few hours.” Remus assured her, nodding vaguely watching Sirius bury his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. “And thank you so much for taking him on such short notice.”

“It's my pleasure. Neville loves the company.” They exchanged breathy laughs as Harry continued to cry and reach for Sirius desperately.

“Alright mate, behave yourself for the nice lady.” Sirius flashed a smile, running a hand through Harry's hair before they turned to leave, Remus throwing another wave over his shoulders as Alice shut the door.  
Sirius opened the driver's side door and slid in before Remus pushed him across the seat until he was fitted into the worn vinyl on the passenger's side. “How can it be a surprise if your driving?” Remus reasoned when he caught Sirius pout in the corner of his eye.

~~

“Remus this is stupid.” Sirius held his arms out in front of his, his nose scrunched in discomfort as Remus lead him along a narrow path that had been beaten into the forest floor by other weary travelers, a blindfold secured tightly over his eyes.

“You're the one who told me to be spontaneous.” Remus chuckled, the wicker basket hanging from the fold of his elbow knocking against the side of his leg clumsily as they stepped over a fallen tree.

“Why do I hear birds?”

“It's called the outdoors, love.” Remus kept his hands around Sirius' waist as they wove between trees and stepped around the thorny underbrush that spilled onto the path. Sirius yelped as his foot caught on a tree root and he stumbled forward. He cursed loudly as his hand flew out blindly and landed on the trunk of a tree, catching his own fall, the skin on his palm tearing against the course bark. Sirius went to pulled the bandanna off his eyes but stopped when he felt Remus' hand wrap around his wrist. He sighed as Remus apologized profusely, urging Sirius to keep it on for his sake.

  
Remus lead them a bit further down the path, just until the beaten dirt was barely visible through the over grown shrubbery and the rush of traffic melted away into the pleasant hum of locust in the trees. “Alright.” Remus stopped them when they reached a grassy patch by a small creak. Sirius stood blindly as Remus tugged a red and white checker blanket out of the basket and spread it out, the blotchy shadows from the foliage that hung lazily overhead danced across his face in the breeze. “Alright.” He repeated, wiping his hands on his pants when he noticed that he was nervous. He reached up and untied Sirius' blindfold, strains of his black hair sticking to his damp palms.

  
Sirius blinked slowly, his lips stretching into a smile as Remus' cheek stained red. “You've always been such a goddamn romantic.” He punched Remus's shoulder lightly before setting both hands on his hips, looking down at the blanket and the basket and the single yellow rose that hung limply between Remus' fingers.

“Must be all those terribly cliché movies I watch.” Remus shuffled his feet, standing beside the other boy awkwardly as he pressed the flower against Sirius' chest.  
Sirius hooked a hand at the base of Remus' skull and kissed him deeply, the coarse leaves on the rose's steam folding under their palms as he balled his fist around Remus'. He kept a wide smile split across his face as he pulled back, pecking the tip of Remus' nose lightly before watching him fumble, motioning towards the blanket as an invitation to sit down. “So you cooked for me? That's so sexy.” Sirius joked, crossing his legs over themselves as he watched Remus pull sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil out of the basket.

“It's not really cooking so much as it is a feeble attempt at making something remotely edible.”

“Don't be ridiculous, I love your cooking.”

“I don't think I've cooked for you a day in my life.” Remus laughed, keeping his eyes fixed on the depths of the basket. He could feel Sirius' eyes on him as he pulled a bottle of wine out along with two mismatched mugs. “I thought the wine glasses would break." He smiled, filling one of the mugs with the dark red liquid before handing it to Sirius.

  
Sirius let his fingers linger on Remus' as he took it, the grass under the blanket crunching as he moved to tuck his legs underneath himself. He laughed when Remus' cheeks filled with blood, pressing his bottom lip to the cool porcelain. “I'm glad to know I can still make you blush, love.” He took a sip of wine as Remus made a nest for his mug in the grass beside him so it wouldn't tip over on the uneven ground. Sirius unwrapped his sandwich, the metallic crunch of tinfoil cut through the air as he watched Remus look down at his knees. “You know, duckie.” He pinched a piece of crust off his sandwich and rolled it between his fingers. “I don't want things to be so force between us-.”

“Nothing's being force.” Remus looked up him, his aspen colored eyes wide as Sirius carded a hand through his hair. He smiled, his chapped lips splitting as he picked up the yellow rose laying beside Sirius' knees. He snapped the thorns off the stem with his thumb, the sharp points catching in the grooves of his prints before he flicked them into the shallow stream to his left. He broke the stem in half with one quick motion before sitting up on his knees. Sirius' hands fell into his lap when Remus reached up and tucked the rose behind his ear, stray strains of silky black hair getting caught in the pale petals. Sirius snorted, fitting the stem of the rose more securely behind his ear when Remus scoffed and sat back on his heels. “I was trying to be romantic.”

“No, no, you were. You are.” Sirius laughed, pulling Remus back towards him by the front of his shirt. He kissed the side of Remus' mouth, his lips still stretched into a smile. “You're very romantic. I can barely control myself.” Sirius' whispered against his mouth, Remus' hands resting on Sirius' chest, hot and heavy through the thin cotton of his tank top. Remus laughed, nervous and breathy as Sirius let his hand fall on bony rise of his hip.

  
Sirius knocked the basket out from between them with his knee so it fell over on it's side and two bottles of wine rolled out onto the blanket. He kept a hand locked around Remus' jaw as he pulled the other boy's legs straight, climbing onto his lap and pressing up closely against Remus' chest. “But I made you sandwiches.” Remus pointed out when he felt Sirius cool fingers skirting across the dimple in his navel under his shirt. Sirius hummed into the hallow of Remus' neck, shoving his cardigan up around his waist. His teeth vibrated against the pulse hammering in Remus' jugular as he bit at the tanned skin that separated him from the rushing flow of blood in his veins. Remus' hands trailing down the dip of Sirius' spine instinctively. He growled somewhere deep in his throat when Sirius rolled his hips, deep and slow while Remus' hands found the swell of his arse. His head lulled back as Sirius left angry red bites along his neck, rocking his pelvis in time with Remus' jagged breaths.


	3. Chapter 3

  
  


This was just a new chapter in their lives. A new Sirius to fall in love with, a new obstacle to over come. Of course it was hard. It was the hardest thing Remus had to do in his entire life. He could feel it killing him ever time they stepped into the doctor's office, every time Sirius skipped a meal and every time he laid awake during the early hours of the morning, trying to make some sense of the past year and a half of their lives. It wasn't easy being so young and having to go through so much without any sort of grace period in between to let it all sink in. James was suddenly gone and Harry was suddenly there and Sirius was suddenly unavailable. He was too young to have so many grey hairs and the worry lines that etched their way into his brow appeared years before their time.

He wanted so much to be angry. Anger was easy. It didn't require any sort of strenuous thinking or exhausting mood swings. He wanted to be angry at himself because if he had just looked at what was right in front of him, maybe he could have gotten Sirius to the doctor sooner and they might have had more of a fighting chance. He wanted to be angry at Sirius because he was wasting the last few seconds he had left with Remus, wallowing in self pity and drowning in a never ending spiral of depression and booze. He wanted to be angry at James for dying for fuck's sake, because he would have known how to get Sirius to snap out of it and he would have known something was off right from the start, forcing Sirius to see a doctor the moment something didn't seem right. He wanted to be angry at Lily for not being there for him and Harry and Sirius because, god, she would have handled it all so perfectly.

Remus never lost it though. He never once drove their car into a tree on his way home from work like he had thought of doing so many times. He kept a level head because that's what Remus Lupin did. He was Sirius' rock. Something that he could hang onto when the world around them was quick sand.

But Sirius had quit his job after staying in bed had become a full time occupation and things were getting harder. With every poke and prod, shot and pill, Sirius grew weaker. Tireder. Angrier at life and the way it had chewed him up and spit him out like a piece of meat. Remus would watch him stare blankly at the walls of their bedroom, his ribcage becoming more predominant every time Remus looked his way. Harry was growing up and Remus was getting older and Sirius was missing everything. The sunrise was never the same two days in a row, and he wanted to share it with him before it was too late, but Sirius couldn't, or wouldn't, get out of bed. It made Remus furious and guilt stricken and just plain sad, right down to his very core, but he numb, mostly, which was worse than all of the others combined. It was like he didn't care. Or he cared too much.

“Hey, wake up,” Remus curled his fingers around Sirius' shoulder and shook him, “come on,look at me.”

“Not now, Remus,” Sirius batted at him in his sleep, making like he wanted nothing more than to turn over and fall back into unconsciousness, but was stopped by a persistent arm around his waist. 

“You're no fun, come on, I've got something for you.”

“I haven't got the energy.”

“Well, you better find some. Come on.” Remus crouched down by the bed, his face in front of Sirius' as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I have things to give you.”

“What are they?”

“Do you really think I would ruin the surprise by telling you what I've got? Do you not know me at all?”

“Is it new sheets? We could really use some new sheets.”

“Do I look like some sort of house wife to you?” Sirius cracked an eye and smirked. “Stop that,” Remus laughed and pressed their foreheads together. “It's actually three things. I've gotten you three presents – well, I've gotten _us_ three presents.”

“Your not trying to get me out of the house are you? Because you know how much I absolutely _loath_ other people.”

“You really are a teenage girl, aren't you?”

“I'm serious, Remus. I hate how they look at me. Like I'm some sort of creature on display,” he grimaced, opening his eyes to reveal a pair of glassy orbs that use to rival steal in strength. He ran a hand over his smooth head, the last of his hair folded into a locket around Remus' neck. “They either pity me, or want to fix me and I haven’t been able to decide which is worse.”

“Then ignore them. Who cares, Sirius? Are you honestly trying to tell me that you want to let a bunch of strangers rule what you’re going to do for the rest of your life?” The rest of your life. That was a phrase Remus had chosen very carefully. It was a bit more forgiving than 'the rest of your days' and it wasn't nearly as horrible as 'the rest of the month', even though they both knew they all meant the same thing. “The answer is no, so wont you just humour and come into the living room?”

Sirius cursed and sat up, keeping the sheet around his shoulders defiantly. “Where's Harry?”

“Napping.”

“Napping? Have you drugged him? I don't think he's ever napped in his tragically short life.”

“Warm milk. Lily assured me that it worked like magic,” He lead Sirius into the living room by interlocking fingers, towing him along after him as he dragged his bare feet over to the couch as slowly as he could, just so Remus would know that he didn't like the strenuous activity. “Here. Part one,” Remus dropped a paper bag tied with ribbon into Sirius' lap as he sat down. 

He looked down at it apprehensively before glancing back up at Remus with a heavy brow. “I don't trust you.”

“It must be tragic having to sleep next to me every night then.” 

He undid the ribbon and dropped it to the floor without ceremony. He glanced into the bag with an expression that told Remus he wasn't even going to give it a chance. “You're kidding. You've gone mad. You're the one who needs the doctor, not me.” Remus' shoulders fell as Sirius' face twisted bitterly, “do you expect me to wear this?”

“Why not?”

“I can't wear this! I'll look like... like I've given up.”He pulled a handful of scarves out of the depths of their brown paper prison, the material silky and shimmery between his fingers. 

“No you wont. You'll look dashing, like a pirate.”

“Like a pirate,” Sirius scoffed as Remus took them out of his hand, pulling him up off the couch and spinning him around by the shoulders. He took one and set the rest on the coffee table that stood at their shins, pulling himself onto his toes to drape the scarf over Sirius' head and tie it in a knot at the base of his skull.

“Show me, you handsome man,” Remus smiled as Sirius spun slowly, looking miserable. 

“Do I look like a complete cock? Would James be pissing himself?”

“James would be jealous of your staggering good looks,” Remus pressed himself against him from knee to hip, his arms around his waist reassuringly. 

“Not that he would ever admit to it,” Sirius laughed, ducking his face out of Remus' view as he ran apprehensive fingers over the silk stretching across his head. “I want to see.”

“Of course,” Remus patted his pockets in search of the hand mirror he had stashed away just in case everything went according to plan. 

Sirius held it up in front of his face, worry clear in his pinched brow. “I still wish I had hair. I had bloody amazing hair. You can't tug on a scarf during sex.”

“Mine hasn't been tugged enough,” he took the hand hanging at Sirius' side and placed it on his head, “go on then.” 

“Show off.”

“No, no it's an offering,” he butted his head up into Sirius' hand until the fingers wrapped in tawny locks splayed and curled gently, pulling him closer until their mouths slotted together slowly and chastely like they were the stars of a film. “There's a part two,” he said against his mouth after a moment. 

“Alright then,” he pulled back, squaring his shoulders as bloody pooled under ashy flesh. 

“I want you to guess,” he sat down cross legged on the couch, dipping with the springs as Sirius sat next to him. 

“Well I've already been mistaken about the sheets.”

“No it's not sheets, it's much more exciting,” he turned himself so he was facing him, his knees knocking against Sirius' side.

“Have you gotten another fern?”

Remus laughed. “No, I would never do something so horrible to you. I know how livid you are about the first one being here.”

“Still don't really know what it is.”

“Keep guessing,” he pressed.

“Socks.”

“I said exciting,” Remus collapsed into the back of the couch sideways. 

“Socks are exciting if you have cold toes. Or if your feet are bare inside a pair of trainers.” Remus' eyes fell back into his skull and Sirius laughed. “Alright,” he pressed his fingers into his bottom lips, “Are we moving to a cottage along the Italian coast?”

“Well now the truth is going to seem like shit.”

“Darn, I really had my heart set on that one,” Sirius smiled at him wickedly. “Have you gotten a pair of those plushy dice for the car?”

“No, but it does have something to do with the car,” he sat forward, trying to make the answer clear in the enthusiasm pulling at his face.

“Have you–”

“I sold it.”

“Now, why did you ask me to guess if you were just going to blurt out the answer? I feel cheated.”

“I bought a pick up truck to replace it. Older than the station wagon, yes, but very spirited, you'll see. It's red and it's a bit rusty around the tires but it's got this amazing wooden bed and this massive steering wheel, you'll feel like you're the captain of a sodding _ship_. It really takes you back. I thought we could got traveling. Where ever you wanted to go, it doesn't matter. And the Potters asked to have Harry stay with them for a long holiday, which is the third and final part and that's when I got the idea, really. The idea that we should have our own long holiday, with blankets and thermoses full of tea and hot chocolate.” Sirius was watching him gesture, pointing to the window like the thing was parked right outside on the curb. He had to kiss him again, quickly, briefly, like it hadn't even happen because he wanted him to keep talking like that forever, even if it was about some rust bitten thing he bought from a guy in Cheshire. He hadn't seen that look on his face since before they graduated, before the world showed them her terrible fury and before death pulled himself from between the pages of story books. He watched Remus blush, Sirius' hands still fastened around his face as they looked at each other with a new sort of hope. The kind of hope that could rekindle fires and cure cancer. 


End file.
